Dear Gretel

Dear Gretel,

         How are you? How’s Dad? It’s been a while since I wrote anything to you. I can only hope you’re all well.

         I just read your last letter. I’m so glad that you finally got a new job. Do you enjoy it so far? If you have a chance, please bid Mr Geppetto my thanks for making you his assistant. I swear I’ll never again laugh at him for thinking a block of wood can speak. Maybe he’s a bit nuts — okay, maybe he’s very nuts — but he’s better than our new Mum. He’s nuts but kind. Mum is simply nuts.

         Speaking of which, I also have a surprise. Now I’m no longer a servant, but a cook! Earlier this week, Mrs Red got awfully sick and couldn’t cook, so that night Mr Bad told me to make the dinner. He was pleased with my cooking, and he told me I could keep that job as long as I want. Thank goodness, no more scrubbing for me! My hands began to wrinkle from scrubbing, scrubbing and scrubbing that floor over and over again. And have I told you how filthy Mr Puss’ boots are? Eww. Glad I don’t have to do it again.

         Now I’m cooking all the time. It’s better than scrubbing the floor, I suppose, and I can stay in the kitchen with Mrs Red. She’s a nice lady, Mrs Red. She teaches me many things and she treats me like her own son. I’m always feeling at home whenever she’s around. I still don’t understand how such a nice lady got a husband so … so bad. But there you go. Life is hard to understand.

         (Okay, perhaps Mr Bad isn’t that bad. He’s quite kind, although a bit perverted and very, very hairy. And I have a nasty suspicion he never takes a bath in the last couple of years. I never see him going anywhere near the river. And in the past few days, his hair had become so smelly that flies began to buzz around him. It’s a wonder he hasn’t been arrested for a violation against hygiene.)


         Gretel, I hope you’re happy there. As for myself, I found this place has become like a second home to me. Perhaps Mr Bad is a bit too smelly and perhaps Mr Puss made me mad too often, but I enjoy every minute I’m living here. I just wish you and Dad were here. As much as I enjoy my new life, I still miss you guys so much. Words are just not enough to describe how much I’m longing to see you two again. On the one hand, I really want to go back home; on the other I don’t want to see Mum.

         That witch! Is this how she treated her step-children? Forcing them to work like slaves? How nice of her! And Dad isn’t very helpful, either. I still don’t understand why he didn’t just divorce her. Our lives would’ve been better without her ordering us around. I wish we could find a way to drive her off.


         Gretel, I must end this letter here. Please tell Dad that I love him. I love him still, even after what he’s made us go through by marrying Mum. And I love you too, sister dear. So, good night. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.


Love,
Hansel